


Eternal Honeymoon

by CaptainTarthister



Series: The Lannisters Are Coming [12]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A tad inappropriate dirty talk, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingerfucking, Fondling, Nipple Play, Nipples, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Touching, Woman on Top, newlyweds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-28 01:32:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19801996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: Jaime never knew what to expect with Brienne. All he knew was whatever she had in mind for them, he was in for one wild ride guaranteed to keep him smiling for weeks. And wanting more.





	Eternal Honeymoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [catherineflowers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineflowers/gifts).



> This follows "I Am Yours and You Are Mine," in the series. In that previous installment, Jaime and Brienne get married in Evenfall Hall.
> 
> Non-gift fics like the one above are set to private, in an attempt to put whatever protection is only possible from getting my work plagiarized again. I'm sorry for the bother but I do have other fics that can be read without needing an AO3 account. I'm still setting my other non-gift fics to private.
> 
> Beginning today, all works under my Blue Awakening series is only accessible to registered users.

People waiting for the elevator reeled back when Brienne’s loud, horsey laugh greeted them as the doors parted. They stepped aside, their expressions ranging from amazement to uncertainty, brows furrowing trying to make out if the sound was an actual laugh or a wheezing animal in distress. Wordlessly, they stared as two blondes well over six feet tall stepped out of the carriage and into the hallway.

One was clearly a man. Easily the best-looking man anyone had seen. Thick hair the color of spun gold, elegant, defined features that caught the eye and made one linger whether rendered on canvass or a magazine cover. A storybook prince even in his rumpled shirt and shorts.

The only indication that the second person was a woman was the skirt she wore. Her hair was pale and looked like rough straw. Her plain t-shirt had seen better days, as had her sneakers.

She had thick, pale eyebrows, startlingly blue eyes, a big, crooked nose and thick, chapped lips. The effect was features that looked coarse and randomly tacked on a face. Despite greatly lacking in good looks and at the moment, questionable sartorial choices, the man stared at her like she was a very tasty snack. Or a juicy steak. 

Oblivious to the attention and curiosity, Jaime and Brienne continued down the hallway, easily taking long strides despite their luggage.

“Well, why not?” Jaime pointed out as he unlocked the door to their apartment. His eyes were clear emerald orbs, gleaming playfully at Brienne despite looking quite tired. His stare was heavy-lidded, indicating he hadn’t gotten much sleep—for all the right reasons, he though, smirking at her as he ran a hand through his hair. Limp and quite greasy from the flight, his hand ended up sticky after the brief touch. He wiped it on the back of his jeans as he grinned at her.

“It’s the same apartment, husband,” Brienne answered as he pushed open the door. “You have already carried me across the threshold. Which nearly resulted in a hospital visit, if you recall.”

She patted her hip as a reminder. Though her words were admonishing, her tone was tender, intimate. Grinning, Jaime blocked her from going inside by putting up one arm across the doorway. He looked up at her, still amazed after all these years at the astonishing blueness of her eyes. Big, round and clear, they were her most arresting and most beautiful feature.

She flushed from his smile. She was red rather than tanned from their sun-soaked Braavos honeymoon. Nothing was going to stop her from getting redder, it seemed. He squinted slightly at her freckles. They had multiplied in the warmer weather of Braavos.

It was a huge effort for Jaime to look away.

“I’ll be careful, wife. I’ve been fucking you at least four times a day this week, ” he drawled, enjoying her scowl before she darted a look up and down the hallway for a possible audience. He licked his lips, savoring how the word _wife_ felt like an exhale, a relief. “You might be knocked up already.”

She swiftly turned back to him, blinking rapidly as he flattened a hand on her stomach. Her shaky breath warmed his face as he nudged the bottom of her t-shirt up to touch bare skin. He smiled at her.

“I’ve fucked you so often I believe your cunt has been wetter with me. You have a cub growing inside you as we speak.”

Eyes widening, she gasped, “Hush—”

He smashed his mouth to hers, smug at how she quickly fell against him. Just as suddenly as the kiss began, he ended it. There it was. Owlish sapphires, lips quickly swollen from that one hard kiss. Blotchy neck.

Fucking adorable how dirty talk still rattled his wife.

“You sound very sure,” she retorted, sounding a little breathless. She gasped when his hand crept higher to squeeze her breast. _“Jaime.”_

“Fucking yeah. You milkmaid,” he whispered, weighing her breast experimentally. It barely filled his palm but just the idea of having her tits swollen and full of milk was enough to make his mouth water. He leaned up to kiss her chapped lips then pulled away. Her blush was more vivid now and there was a small smile on her face. “Do you know that in the old days, I’d be perfectly within my rights to keep you in bed until you’re too heavy with our child to move? And it was expected that I fuck you until it’s time for the little one to roar. You think we can do something like that this weekend, wife? Lock ourselves in the apartment? Let me keep my cock in you the entire time?”

Brienne squawked when he pushed his hand under her skirt, quickly cupping her cunt. As he’d known, she was warm and damp. Her stuttered breathing hit him in the face as once again she darted a panicked glance in the hallway. He distracted her with another hard kiss, pleased with the passion she poured in her response. He pinned her against the frame, sliding his tongue past her thick lips at the same time he pushed a finger in her cunt.

Seven above. She felt like butter-slicked silk.

“Jaime,” she gasped, clenching around him. Pants left her mouth and he licked her lips.

“A weekend inside you, then,” he decided. “You don’t have to tell me you like it, wife. Your agreement is flooding my hand.”

She laughed and he kissed her firmly on the cheek. She smelled of sweat and faintly of vanilla. No man should get weak-kneed over this scent. He bit the tip of her ear, grunting softly. He was hard and desperate to fuck her again. He didn’t care where they were, but she did. What happens in Braavos stays in Braavos, he thought, remembering.

With great reluctance, he set himself a little away from her, pulling his finger out of her cunt. He returned his hand under her shirt, squeezing her tits.

“A week alone with my wife who has the tightest and wettest cunt in all of Westeros and now Essos,” he continued, pleased that she was kissing him back. “I’d be a fool to not fuck you.”

“I never doubted your smarts, husband,” she whispered. “But you tend to forget your shoelace.”

He grinned as she glanced pointedly at his feet. The laces of his shoes had been double-knotted this time.

“Do you really expect me to pay attention to things like shoelaces when you’re in the room naked?” He playfully pulled at her nipple.

“I wasn’t always naked,” she gasped, staggering toward his chest. He grinned again and pressed her against the doorframe, her nipple still imprisoned in his fingers. He pulled it again and she squeaked.

“Naked under your clothes.” He kissed again, his lips coaxing hers to part and let his tongue inside. She sighed and kissed him back hungrily, her tongue meeting his. Happily, his hand slipped under her t-shirt to caress her back, hauling her close to his chest . She threw her arms around his shoulders, followed by a long leg wrapping around his thigh.

Though he and Brienne had diverging interests in movies, books and hobbies, he was endlessly fascinated by her. She could be padding around their apartment in just a t-shirt and socks or licking her fingertips to turn a page in the book and it was poetry in motion. She was fresh and surprising in so many ways that he had at last determined that list would never cease to grow.

Dirty talk made her blush but also turned her on. And as insistent as she was regarding proper behavior in public, she had a filthy mouth and put any porn star to shame behind closed doors. She was his wet dream come to life—quick to soak her panties, quick to come. To fuck Brienne once was to open the door to a hot, insatiable wanting. He found her superior size and strength endlessly sexy. Rough fucking was his favorite and her body was made for it. For him.

Jaime never knew what to expect with Brienne. All he knew was whatever she had in mind for them, he was in for one wild ride guaranteed to keep him smiling for weeks. And wanting more.

Such as when she surprised him by slipping to her knees between his thighs as soon as the seatbelt sign was off. Tywin had loaned them the Lannister jet for the two-hour flight from Tarth to Braavos. Brienne took advantage of the privacy of that luxury by sucking on Jaime’s cock until they were circling Braavos International Airport.

Usually, it was Jaime who got inappropriate trying to fondle her tits or sneaking a hand between her thighs while out in public. Brienne was the cautious one, hesitant to return his open-mouthed, tongue-thrusting kisses beyond the privacy of their apartment. She blushed furiously and tried to lecture him— _tried_ because though she wasn’t a huge fan of public displays of attention, more often than not, she responded eagerly.

Brienne on a honeymoon in the historic port city of Braavos was an insatiable wench, much to Jaime’s delight. She had _begged_ him to stick his cock anywhere he wanted in her. _Any-fucking-where._ He was more than happy to oblige.

The few times they grudgingly got dressed and left their penthouse villa, they still fucked all over Braavos. Jaime had been ready to kiss Braavos’ cobblestoned streets when Brienne revealed she didn’t bring any panties for the entire honeymoon. She also stuck to wearing gauzy tops that didn’t hide her tight plump nipples, as well as mini-skirts or dresses that could be removed before the next breath was drawn.

It was safe to say there was no ancient archway untouched by their fucking.

Cock-mad Braavos-Brienne had Jaime smiling even in his sleep. While Bronn and Addam sometimes complained about going without fucking their wives for weeks or their wives not offering their mouths to be fucked, Jaime was more than satisfied with Brienne. Hells, he was spoiled. And in Braavos, she lavished his cock with licks and kisses day and night. Her full lips called to be lined with his dripping cock. Her wide, cavernous mouth seemed created to take his cock. She loved to swallow, though she was a cute mess about it. Jaime loved that about her—the many, many things he loved about his wife. A sweet, saucy mix of shy and bold, she never failed to slay him in the bedroom, all while getting redder in the face.

As they kissed, Jaime couldn’t resist lowering his hand again. She shrieked as he palmed her cunt. By the Seven, she was _pouring._ He will never get used to this, he thought happily, fucking her with a finger again.

Brienne whimpered thought their kiss, her hips surging against his hand. She was drenched to her thighs. What he would give to see her wet cunt right now. But out of respect for his wife (what little respect he was capable of when listening to his cock), he just kept a finger inside her.

She was smooth and petal-soft to the touch. But there was one crucial thing missing. Many crucial things, in fact.

“How long until the hair grows back, wife?”

He had been a little annoyed that during the bridal shower, Ellaria had encouraged Brienne to get the Prince’s Feast—an aesthetic treatment that waxed all pubic hairs. He had always loved the feel of Brienne’s rough hairs, the dirty-blond tangle that covered her slit. She had a woman’s cunt.

Not to say he didn’t enjoy the unbelievably smooth and soft flesh. He simply preferred hair.

“Um, oh, a month?” she gasped as he pressed firm strokes on her firm, fat clit.

“Good. I miss it.”

Brienne’s cunt was beautiful. Jaime liked a full bush and she _had_ a sexy, dirty-blond cluster. Her cunt was very lightly feathered with hair now. He couldn’t wait to have it as thick as a jungle again. That’s when her cunt was most beautiful. A real shame she refused to burn all her panties, really.

He stroked her clit, enjoying how she quivered and panted against his mouth. As her thighs tightened around his hand, she gasped, “I have an idea.”

“Me too. Let’s fuck here. People are away at work. No one will catch us.”

She guffawed loudly and pulled his hand from under her skirt. “I want to carry _you_ across the threshold.”

Jaime looked back at her thoughtfully, licking his wet fingers. He smirked at her blush. “You taste so fucking good. You think I should spread this on toast?”

“Eww. _Jaime_!”

“You’re right. It’s best enjoyed with your cunt. Like, maple syrup with pancakes. Honest to gods, Brienne. How are you always so fucking wet?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. With her size and scowl she could easily look intimidating, but her eyes had that dreamy look that begged him to ride her hard. “Jaime.”

He put his hands in the pockets of his shorts and affected nonchalance. “It’s a serious question, wife.”

 _“Jaime.”_ He laughed at her impatience. “What do you say?”

Jaime pretended to consider. “Have my wife sweep me off my feet this time?”

“Yeah. Just like that.”

He smiled. “For the record, you’ve been doing that since the night we first saw each other.”

Brienne blushed and laced her fingers through his. “I thought I knocked you over your feet. Literally. With my shoe.”

“Had to be carried home afterwards, if I remember right,” he said, chuckling. “So technically, you did from the very first moment.”

Suddenly, she cupped his face in her hands. Her sapphire gaze was soft yet bright with desire. “I love you so much, Jaime Lannister.”

He kept her hands there, rubbing his thumbs on them. “Don’t stop.”

“No way that’s happening,” she whispered.

“I love you so fucking much,” he declared fiercely. “So much that if you really, really, _really_ want to stop wearing clothes at home, I won’t stop you. I’ll never get in the way of your happiness.”

She grinned and kissed him. “Could you please stop thinking about me naked for a moment and answer me?”

“I will never judge you for never wearing panties again, Brienne,” he said solemnly.

“Jaime,” she said too sweetly, “if you don’t give an answer in three seconds, you’ll never fuck me again. Three, two—”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, grabbing her and kissing her passionately all over the face. “Yes, fucking yes! Take me in your arms. Have your way with me, oh wife of mine,” he added in a falsetto voice while pretending to faint. She shrieked and quickly caught him, sweeping him up high and easily in her arms. He beamed at her as he put his arms around her neck.

“I can get used to this.”

“Savor the moment, husband.”

“Hold on,” Jaime said when she began to step inside. “Let’s give it a moment.”

So Brienne stood still. Together, they stared at the home waiting for them. Nothing had changed—the furniture still resting on their original spots, but with a thin layer of dust. A book Brienne had been reading was still facedown on the sofa, as well as the bright blue throw that kept her warm. Jaime’s sweater was still on the armchair. The only difference was the tower of wedding presents.

 _They_ were different too. They no longer merely lived together. They were husband and wife. Married for the rest of their lives. Mr. and Mrs. Lannister. Mr. and Mrs. Jaime Lannister. Jaime glanced at his wedding band. A rush went through him not unlike a bullet train.

“Nothing’s changed,” Brienne said slowly. “But something’s different, isn’t it? In a good way.”

Smiling, Jaime kissed her. “That’s us, wife. Now, as strong as your husband is, he’s also quite delicate. How are your shoelaces?”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “You want me to drop you and check?”

He chuckled and kissed her again. “I trust you. Now, take me inside, wife. Have your dirty way with me. _I beg you_.”

Brienne laughed with him and walked them through the apartment. Past the kitchen they went, then the living room, before she brought them to the narrow hallway leading to their bedroom. He turned the doorknob to open the door.

Peals of laughter continued as Brienne spun while making her way into the bedroom. Jaime marveled at the strength of her arms, the absence of any gasp or shortness of breath from her. But she put him none too gently on the bed and he flopped on his back, closing his eyes. The thump of her heavy body falling right next to his followed.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she moaned.

“Just keep your eyes closed,” he whispered, feeling for her hand. Finding it, he pulled it to his chest. “Breathe.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Brienne giggled. Jaime listened to the rustle of her clothes and the squeak of the bed under her body as she moved. Then a smooth, firm leg rubbed against him. Soft lips nuzzled his neck. He almost purred.

“I’m sorry, husband. I only meant to sweep you off your feet, not nauseous. ”

“We’re even,” he whispered, kissing her knuckles. “Just keep your eyes closed. Breathe. It will be alright.”

He was the first to open his eyes. Then her.

“Hi, husband.”

“Wife.”

She guided their entwined hands toward his chest, right on his heart. Cuddling against him, she rubbed her lips on his shoulder. “I like that, Jaime.”

She pulled his hand to her lips, kissing it. He spread his fingers to touch more of her face and she covered his palm with more kisses. Down his arm. Just as he was about to pout and demand that she put her mouth where it would be better appreciated, she climbed on top of him.

He grunted under his breath. She was heavy and strong. Hair falling over her eyes, she bit her lip, flushing as she rubbed her cunt against his erection. He held her by the waist, guiding her movements. _Gods_. She was soaked. Her sticky warmth had permeated through the thick denim covering his cock. He was in real danger of spewing before it was time.

He pulled her down for a kiss, groaning when her warm tongue filled his mouth. Hands groping for her ass under her skirt, he cupped the smooth, firm mounds then turned, putting her under him. Sapphire eyes blinked up at him before he took her mouth.

Rough, frantic kisses were always great. Her thick lips called for it. But the slow, exploring kind they were exchanging was wonderful too. He was hot. Hard. Desperate yet again for all of Brienne.

He scattered kisses down the sweaty line of her throat, nuzzling his nose right where the tremor was when she moaned. _Fuck._ Brienne smelled like warm, sugary pastries and sex _all the time._ Drove him fucking mad. He could lick her up. Eat her up. As he sucked on her neck, fingers laced through his hair. A hand seized him by the shoulder. Long legs parted, fabric rustling and rushing as it pooled. He rested more fully in the warm, damp cradle between her hard thighs.

“J-Jaime.” Brienne’s husky stammer made him pause in kissing her neck. “Please. _Please_.”

She pulled her skirt higher. He smiled at her then dropped his gaze to the pale pink triangle of her cunt. It shone with her honey, down to her thighs. He sniffed appreciatively. Vanilla, sex and Brienne. He looked back at her. Her cheeks burned redder by the second, but her expression was hopeful.

He swept her skirt higher, rubbed himself against her slit.

_“Jaime.”_

“Tell me, wife.”

She blushed, thighs moving. “Fuck me, Jaime.”

He chuckled. He knew she could feel how hard he was, but he was never going to stop enjoying her shyness in asking for his cock. His jeans were damp from her honey. “Where do you want my cock? Your mouth? Your ass?”

_“Jaime.”_

He kissed her. “It’s been hours since I last fucked your throat.”

“Oh, gods.” Despite being scandalized, she kissed him back.

“Tell me where,” he whispered, reaching down to nudge at her cunt lips with his fingers. She cooed as he rubbed her clit swiftly.

“Down there,” she moaned, thrashing. “ _I want_. . .in my cunt, Jaime. Fuck me there. _Please_.”

This was way too much fun. He was going to explode in his jeans but damn it.

“I don’t believe you.”

_“Jaime.”_

Biting her lip, he hissed, “Show me how much you want my cock in you, Brienne.”

Turning redder, she grunted, “I _always_ want your cock in me.”

_“Show me.”_

A breathless sound, a gasp flitted from her lips and in the next breath, Jaime was on his back. He smirked. His wife had surprised him again.

Her sapphire eyes flashing like a warrior in battle, she straddled him. He let her attack his belt and fly, groaned when her big hands pulled his cock out. Resting firm and long on his stomach, the plump, mushroom head of his cock gleamed. She took it, giving it a firm rub that had his eyeballs rolling to the back of his head. When he looked back at her, she was raising her hips, still clutching his cock with her hand.

Then she pressed down. He growled, pushing his cock up inside her quickly. She shrieked. _“Jaime!”_

Her passage was so fucking unyielding despite the honey pouring onto him. As she moaned, he slipped his hands under her skirt, catching her by the hips. She nodded and began to move, earnestly at first, her eyes closing and her throat arching as her cunt stretched and swallowed his cock whole. He moved his hips too, telling her with his body the pace he preferred. She wailed and spread her thighs wider. His cock drove an inch deeper inside her.

“So fucking beautiful,” he rasped, fascinated by the spectrum of blushes all over her face and neck, at her half-closed eyes. “You’re breathtaking with my cock in you.”

He pulled her down, putting her tits right over his mouth. Fucking sinful how delicious she smelled here. As their hips grinded into each other’s, he pushed her shirt up and caught a nipple between his teeth. He opened his mouth wide and slurped the entire mound. She cried out, quivering from his hunger and the violence of his thrusts.

He surrendered to all the heavenly sensations that could only come from Brienne, like this: her hot, womanly musk, droplets of sweat pouring into his mouth as devoured her tit. The searing clutch of her cunt around his cock. Familiar sensations yet always new, a tumult of freshness both carnal and sweet. Her guttural moans drew his cock harder while pounding inside her. He tightened his lips around her nipple as it bloomed into a voluptuous bud before letting go. As her pants ruffled the top of his hair, he took another nipple deep in his mouth.

Her wheezing and the sudden, erratic rocking of her body foretold of her release. Jaime howled, her nipple slipping from his mouth as her cunt pulled his cock deep inside. The tightening in his lower back meant he was coming too, and faster than his wife. He seized her nipples between fingers and pulled hard.

Brienne wailed his name. Warm, sticky cum flowed on his thighs as she came, thrashing above him as he continued the relentless pulling and pinching of her nipples. Something in him snapped like a broken string, yanking a shout from his throat. He let go of her nipples to take hold of her hips, forcing her to be still as his cock shot semen in her. She moaned, her face twisting into a grimace as she squeezed around him.

As the rocking motions of their bodies gentled, they stared in each other’s eyes. Jaime brushed his lips over her eyelids, feeling the flutter of every eyelash. Her cunt continued to ripple around him, wringing every drop from his cock. As his lips traveled to the sweaty side of her neck, she fell heavily on top of him. The mattress squeaked form the fall of their combined weight.

Jaime listened to her stuttering breath, breathing in the scent of her sweat from a damp shoulder. He lazily caressed her ass, marveling to himself that the firm globes were covered in sweat too, all the way to the backs of her thighs. Her lips brushed his forehead.

“You should always be inside me, husband.”

He smiled against her neck. Her post-coital slurred speech was such a sexy sound. “I should be,” he agreed. “Maybe you won’t be so fucking tight if I am.”

Slowly, he turned so she was under him. Brienne’s hair stuck out in all directions. Her blotchy face and neck gleamed red from sweat. She looked like a warrior come home from a battle.

That and she also wore a blissed-out, drunken expression. Jaime couldn’t stop staring at her kiss-swollen mouth, or her red, tight nipples. He tongued them one by one, soothing the lingering burn of his play and making her gasp and moan. A leg bent slowly to wrap around his hip. He lowered a hand to her cunt, pleased to find her sticky and dripping. The squelch of flesh parting from the push of his finger just about avoided being obscene.

“I should fuck you at all hours,” he said conversationally, dragging his tongue from one nipple to the other while pushing a second finger in her cunt. “Time for me to feel how it is to fuck you without my cock fighting for every inch inside you, don’t you think?”

She giggled. “Maybe you’re too big, Jaime.”

“You shouldn’t be so tight anymore,” he pretended to complain. “I’ve never fucked so much until you.” 

He yelped when she suddenly grabbed him by the hair, making him look at her. “I’ve never spread my legs so much until you.”

“You’re never closing them this weekend, that’s for sure.”

“Just this weekend?”

He kissed her on the chin. “Hopefully for the rest of our lives.”

“Don’t stop fucking me.”

“Like that’s gonna happen.”

He suddenly sat back on his knees, his gaze searing while taking in her beautiful blush, spit-covered nipples and her cunt. Pinker and plumper from fucking, it shone from sweat and their juices. He stared at Brienne as he wiped his cock clean with the edge of her skirt, smirking at how her cheeks reddened again.

Biting her lip, she glanced at the door. “We should get the bags.”

“I’ll take care of them,” he said, tucking his cock back in his jeans. He moved between her legs.

Brienne, pushing herself up on her elbows, asked, “Are you going to count again how many hairs have grown back?”

He laughed. “Not unless you want me to. I can do it later but now—”

She blushed at his suggestive tone. Biting her lip, she whispered, “Jaime, we should at least get our bags from the hall first.”

“I said I’ll take care of it,” he said, nudging her thighs to open some more. _“Later.”_

“Jaime—”

“Your legs worked so hard carrying me, wife. Allow me to express my gratitude for your strength. And for granting me the privilege of putting my cock in you for all the days of our lives,” he said with mock solemnness. As she giggled, he thumbed her cunt lips open to reveal the fat thrust of her clit.

Her mirth became a moan when his tongue parted her slit. Moving up the pinker, inner skin of a fold, he discovered how thickly she tasted of him and herself. He scented her too, finding himself quickly intoxicated from the unique perfume of her vanilla cunt, musk, and his semen.

She smelled delicious and tasted even better. No words could describe how she was on his tongue. Only that he couldn’t get enough of her cunt, his tongue lapping up their combined juices sliding out of her, the wet, silken texture of her inner labia and clit against his skin. He spread her open again, his mouth watering at the treat waiting to devoured. He began with her clit.

Brienne’s screams rose over his loud, indulgent slurps.

Her massive thighs shook around his head as it dove over and over her cunt. He groaned through the feast, catching one of her outer labia between his lips, running his tongue up and down the gleaming inner folds. He captured her clit again, pulling it more firmly between his lips.

_“Jaime!”_

Her hands clutched at her hair as she gasped and wailed at the ceiling, hips undulating under his kisses. He released her clit and resumed licking her cunt, memorizing her flavor and texture. Better than any food the Seven could conjure up. Better than what the gods eat, to be honest about it. A sweet, wet, pink feast—that’s what Brienne’s cunt was. His tongue nudged at her outer labia to part again.

Brienne wailed and thrashed as his tongue repeatedly stabbed into her. Her hands left her hair to blindly grasp for him. He caught them, sliding his fingers between hers. Clasping hands, he fucked her cunt with rapid, firm strokes of his tongue.

She came close to crushing his hands into powder when she shrieked her orgasm. Jaime fused his tongue firmer to her cunt, enjoying the honey pouring out. He tried to lap up every drop but ended up just rubbing his face on her cunt, her inner thighs. Then he wrapped his lips around her clit again and felt the moment his wife was launched like a rocket into the sky.

His tongue continued darting in and out of her cunt, alternating between hard slurps of her cunt, as her body softened. He licked her clean and kissed his way up her body until he was looking in her eyes again. Her gaze was unfocused, but her smile was sure. “Jaime.”

He grinned as she caught his face and pulled him down for a kiss. He felt her face warm as she tasted herself on his tongue.

“I should carry you across the threshold more often,” she teased in between kisses.

“Your strong arms and powerful legs can certainly do it again,” he agreed.

He moved to lay beside her, spooning against her back. He kissed her on the nape as she lowered his hand to her still-wet cunt. But her skirt was in the way. He yanked it down her legs and tossed it away. Popped off her sneakers next. She laughed as his hand returned between her thighs, firm and possessive on her cunt.

“At some point,” she suddenly said, “will our bags make their way into our apartment, husband?”

“Probably. You’ll have to help me out. I fuck you once and I gotta fuck you again. It’s a vicious cycle, wife. It does make me think about the need of clothes—for you—when I’ll be fucking you again soon enough.”

“Is that a complaint?”

He licked her. “Hells, no.”

Her thighs squeezed his hand. She turned her head to look at him. He sighed, feeling himself stir with desire and also lulled to a deep, profound contentment.

Cradlng his face, she whispered, “I love you, Jaime.”

He held her tighter, knowing for sure no earthly bliss came close to how he felt. No man should be this happy or lucky. But he was.

“I love you back, Brienne.”

**Author's Note:**

> A story that should just take me a few days took me weeks because of health issues. But here it is, yay! Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> I'll be updating my other WIPs as soon as I feel better. I'll try not to have you waiting longer than you already have!


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